


look (a starlight night)

by mosalyng



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Crushes, Late Night Drives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13900461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosalyng/pseuds/mosalyng
Summary: “Pull over. Let me drive. (I love you.)”





	look (a starlight night)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fantatogo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantatogo/gifts).



> happy birthday, delenn! thank you for everything ♡
> 
>    
> (fic title comes from nuest's song)

 

 

 

 

> 11:38 pm

 

Minghao’s phone keeps ringing, playing that awful song he used to love a few months ago before setting it up as his ringtone.

  
The sound of it is the first thing he registers after waking up. Then the red digital numbers on the clock to his right, indicating that his nap lasted longer than he intended it to. He rubs his eyes a little, trying to get rid of drowsiness, and yawns before answering the call.

 

“Wake up, beautiful,” he hears Mingyu say, voice lively and not fitting such a late hour. “I’m waiting downstairs. It’s time to go.”

 

Minghao sighs.

 

It’s the night before their old schoolmate’s wedding; they’ve never been on excessively friendly terms with the guy, but they both received the invitation, handwritten and full of glitter. Minghao isn’t too keen on the idea of traveling throughout the whole country for the sole purpose of sipping on a ridiculously expensive champagne and congratulating the bride he’s never seen before. Mingyu, on the other hand, insists on going, and his puppy eyes are enough to make Minghao raise his hands in surrender.

 

“Give me ten minutes.”

 

 

 

> 00:24 am

  
  
“You sure you’ve packed everything?”  
  
Mingyu rolls his eyes in response, his expression exaggerated; an effect of too many hours spent in drama classes. It’s something Minghao’s got used to over the years they’ve known each other.

  
“You might need to lend me your toothbrush,” Mingyu says in the end, eyes trained on one of Seoul’s beltways. The road is almost completely empty, allowing him to speed up a little, exceeding the speed limit. The way he drives carries no traces of carelessness, though, and there’s not even an ounce of fear in Minghao’s mind.

“Gross.”

Mingyu laughs at that, a rich, beautiful sound Minghao could never grow tired of. He doesn’t let the thought linger, however, and shakes his head in fake anger, turning away to hide the fond smile that finds its way to his lips.

They’re like that; always bickering, throwing empty words but knowing better than to take offense. It’s easier, sometimes, because Minghao’s always scared of the things he wants to do, of the way his fingertips itch to touch and feel and  _hold_.

 

 

 

 

> 1:14 am

 

“Hungry?”

 

The road is still empty, save for a few trucks Mingyu easily overtakes. It could be boring, spending time in the passenger’s seat without being able to move around or read, but Minghao enjoys the quiet sounds of the radio and watching the other, hands never detaching from the steering wheel.

 

“Not really,” he answers, stretching his legs out as much as he can. Then he changes his position, moves a little to make it easier for himself to look at Mingyu. The way he’s sitting now could surely get him a fine from the police, but it’s not like he cares. Mingyu’s side profile is definitely worth it. “We could stop for coffee, though.”

 

Mingyu answers by nodding his head and turning on his GPS to check the distance to the nearest gas station.

 

 

 

 

> 1:50 am

 

“Why did you insist on driving, anyway?” Minghao asks before taking a bite of a nutbar, his favorite flavor. He knows he shouldn’t be eating at this hour, but the temptation was too big to ignore, and besides, Mingyu is also chewing on snickers, so they’re both being irresponsible. It’s all good. “We could have chosen the KTX.”

 

They’re the only people at the gas station, except for a young cashier who seems to be dozing off a little, resting her arms on the counter. Minghao observes her for a moment before switching his gaze to Mingyu, who looks almost as sleepy as she does.

 

“Not a big fan of trains to Busan,” Mingyu says, his voice deadly serious, but Minghao catches the joke and laughs, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

It, obviously, makes him think back to the time when Mingyu persuaded him to watch the movie together, tone all too confident as he gushed over how great it is. They ended up snuggled under a blanket, with Mingyu clinging to Minghao’s arm and closing his eyes every time something bad happened on the screen. It’s a nice memory, though. A warm one.

 

Mingyu’s quiet voice is what brings him back to the reality. “Besides, it’s the joys of driving late at night with your best friend in the passenger’s seat, I guess.”

 

Minghao nods and tries his best to ignore the way his breath catches in his chest upon hearing the words Mingyu uses to refer to him. It’s not like he’s in the position to long for anything more.  
  
****

 

 

 

> 2:30 am

 

“Pull over,” Minghao says with a sigh, and puts his hand on Mingyu’s wrist to make himself sound more convincing. It hasn’t been long since he got his driver’s license, but the yawns and tired eyes make him worried enough to overcome his insecurities. “Let me drive.”

 

The words surprise Mingyu, apparently, but he gives in easily, melting under Minghao’s touch.

 

They switch fifteen minutes later. Mingyu sits back in the passenger's seat and relaxes, shrinking under the weight of tiredness. Minghao focuses on entering the address into the GPS and tries not to think about how soft Mingyu looks like this, how much he wants to pet his hair and give him a forehead kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

> 3:12 am

 

Mingyu wakes up not long after that. Minghao doesn’t even have to turn and look to know he’s up; he notices the small movements out of the corner of his eye, and the sound Mingyu makes while yawning is enough to confirm.   

 

“Go back to sleep,” he says, eyes still focused on the road ahead.

 

“Don’t wanna,” Mingyu answers, voice raspy and thick from sleep. He’s still feeling groggy, from what Minghao can see, and the sight makes a smile find its’ way on Minghao’s face. “I wanna watch you. You look good like that. Driving.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Minghao retorts quickly, not letting Mingyu hold onto that train of thought. He feels him staring, however, and it makes him dizzy. He has to blink a few times to get rid of the feeling, to be able to focus again. He should be the responsible one, he reminds himself.

 

“Oh, I do.”

 

Mingyu reaches between the seats to the backseat and rummages through his bag a little, before taking out his sketchbook, the one Minghao has given him on his birthday. A few pencils, too. He waves them a little with a triumphant smile, and sits back comfortably, opening on a new page.

 

“Don’t move around too much.”

 

“I’m _driving_ , what do you expect me to do?”

 

 

 

 

 

> 3:40 am

 

“I don’t even remember him that well,” Minghao confesses, allowing himself to switch his stare to Mingyu for a second. The road is still moderately empty and quiet, so the initial stress has already left his body and he finds himself enjoying the drive.

 

Mingyu hums at that, too caught up in the process of drawing. Minghao understands and waits for him to finish the part he’s currently working on.

 

“What a bad schoolmate you were,” he says when he finally finishes, a wide smile plastered on his face. It’s meant to be a joke, but there’s some truth behind Mingyu’s words.

 

They met in high school; it was an art-oriented one, something Minghao had dreamed about ever since he discovered how satisfying it is to create. He majored in photography, while Mingyu majored in drawing.

 

He’s always been friends with Junhui, the older being the one who reached out to him on his first day. They bonded over the familiarity of soft sounds of Mandarin and the fact they were polar opposites. Junhui loved performing in front of an audience, while Minghao preferred to hide behind his cameras. They made it all work.

 

Junhui was also the one who introduced him to Mingyu, a member of the drama club.

 

It didn’t take him long to develop a painful, stupid crush Mingyu’s always been oblivious to. Junhui laughed at him a lot during those times. He still does, but now it’s usually followed by a disapproving look that irks Minghao to the point where he tells the older to shut up.

 

So, yes. He really doesn’t remember much besides Mingyu.

 

 

 

 

 

> 4:12 am

 

It grows silent.

 

Minghao drives, thoroughly following the instructions of a robotic and lifeless voice of the GPS. He tries not to think too much of the way Mingyu keeps stealing glances at him, and the little smiles that lighten the other’s face while he switches his attention back and forth between his model and the piece of paper in front of him.

 

No words are exchanged, but there’s no need to do that. It’s just them, together, doing their thing and taking turns in humming the upbeat songs playing on the radio.

 

 

 

 

 

> 5:05 am

 

They’re at a gas station on the outskirts of Busan. It has a small space that allows the customers to sit back and rest after the drive; there are a few people like them, faces tired and eye bags more visible than they should be.

 

Minghao orders a black coffee; Mingyu settles for a white mocha and a sandwich. Typical.

 

They eat in silence, occasionally checking their phones for any social media updates. It’s not uncomfortable; they’re way past the stage of the constant need of talking.

 

Right before they grab their things, Mingyu hands him the drawing he’s been working on, with a small note attached to it. “Open it when you’re alone,” he says. His hands shake a little; Minghao blames it on the lack of sleep.

 

Minghao nods and thanks him. It’s not the first time Mingyu has drawn him, but each time feels special. Each drawing has a special place in Minghao’s heart, and he can pinpoint each of them to a specific memory. He keeps them in a box, together with the polaroid’s he’s taken of Mingyu.

 

It takes a lot of self-control not to open it right away.

 

 

 

 

 

> 7:37 am

 

“See you in the evening,” Mingyu says sleepily and waves before closing the door to his hotel room. They still have a few hours left to the wedding, and Minghao plans on doing the same thing as Mingyu; taking a nap, letting the sheets hug his tired bones.

 

Reading the note is the first thing he does, however. It’s hard not to be curious.

 

_(It’s dumb. I’m sorry. Oh my god. I think I’m in love with you.)_

 

 

 

 

 

> 9:20 pm

 

Minghao finds him finally, in the sea of people he either doesn’t know or doesn’t feel comfortable engaging in a conversation with.

 

Mingyu’s wearing a suit Minghao has chosen for him during one of their trips to Myeongdong, rich fabric and the way he carries himself letting him stand out from the crowd. Saying he looks good would be an understatement, Minghao decides; both the fabric and the cut fit him perfectly, and his slicked back hair makes his facial sharper, more defined, more mature.

 

He’s unable to look away, unable to think about anything other than kissing him.

 

“Are you sure?” he asks when he finally approaches Mingyu, forces himself to stop staring. They’re close, now, too close; the small distance between them is enough to let Minghao get lost in the smell of Mingyu’s cologne, a mixture of wood and vanilla he knows all too well.

 

He’s absolutely captivating.

 

“Yeah,” Mingyu breathes out, eyes pointed to the floor. Minghao can tell he’s unsure, and wonders if Mingyu’s heartbeat is as quick as his. The facade disappears, and he’s now the same Mingyu, but Minghao doesn’t mind; prefers it, even. “I mean. I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

 

Minghao laughs at that. He laughs and laughs, and all the words die out in his throat because there’s nothing that could stop him from feeling like the happiest man in the world. Mingyu keeps staring at him with an anxious expression, but it doesn’t take long before he joins him.

 

“Let’s sneak out,” Minghao says, grabbing Mingyu’s sweaty hand. No one pays attention to them leaving, but it’s not like he cares; he’s got a hand to hold and words he can finally say out loud.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! ♡


End file.
